Such strange night. Felt as though I pushed a party at our place, which is probably kind of true. J had expressed her thoughts about watching a movie at home, not inviting a bunch of drunk co-workers over to drink.
So they eventually left. A taxi came and drove them away.
I randomly picked a VHS cassette out of the pile piled up next to the book case. Turned out to be my first performance in grade seven band. I'm in there somewhere. I definitely recognize my band teacher, Mr. Hood. And I definitely remember playing those songs, then and there. Thing is, is that the quality is so shite that I can't see where I am, and more importantly, where my friends were playing. Mr. Baker on clarinet. Mr. Freeman on drums. T-Dawg on flute (?). Ms. Gagner on alto. Ms. Foster on tenor sax. Plenty of musicianship. Static in the VHS cassette. Random switch to a Michael Bolten concert. His producer ranting on about honesty. Fast forward to Paul Reiser talking down to his dog. Cut to a blank screen of another one of the songs I played when I was twelve. Beer after beer.